Your Secrecy, My Perfection: Our Guilty Pleasure
by shiroiruki
Summary: The Kuchiki Family has always been the paragon of perfection; there is no place for the impurity among the pure. He is perfect, alone. With her, perfection takes on an entire different meaning, putting even the devil himself to shame.


Title: Your Secrecy, My Perfection: Our Guilty Pleasure

Author: shiroiruki

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Author's note: Story has reference to the canon-but that is all.

Summary: The Kuchiki Family has always been the paragon of perfection; there is no place for the impurity among the pure. He is perfect, alone. With her, perfection takes on an entire different meaning, putting even the devil himself to shame.

Edit: I would like to express my endless gratitude and thanks to ZIRS for bringing to my attention the mistakes I've made and for serving as a beta reader in the suggestions made. To those who did read my story, I apologise for the unpleasant read. But do expect a revised version of this chapter to be up soon. :)

Edit 2: Apologies for the delay, I'll only be uploading the revised version once I've chapter 2 done.

* * *

Prologue

The Kuchiki Clan with their reigning prestige spanning over centuries. Unrivalled in powers and wealth. Immaculate. It had always been their main source of pride. The same pride that made them chary of those threatening the very pride of the Kuchiki itself. The elders had shown scorn when he insisted on marriage with a woman from the derelict district of Rukongai, and mock sympathy when she passed from illnesses-even the gods had agreed she was feckless in her duty as the Lady, five years of marriage ultimately leading to an ineffectual wait for an heir.

The elders, however, viewed it as a blessing (in disguise); the Kuchiki bloodline remained safe-undiluted by impurity-although her name would remain in their history, marring their once perfect heritage. The elders realised with her death they could salvage the bloodline by getting him to remarry someone of their choice. But it was difficult to persuade their sole heir into remarrying while he was still in grief, so the elders allowed him time before they broach on this subject again. A year passed. He shocked them with his announcement of taking in a sister. From where?

Rukongai.

Like how he had been adamant in his marriage, Byakuya went ahead with his plan, there was no stopping him. The elders were skeptical. That girl looked like Hisana. But he said he was adopting her as sister. Should they heave a sigh of relief or be fearful of how she could be another to bring a taint to their already sullied name? Either way it didn't really matter, it was all the same. Her presence was undesired.

Paranoia forced them to set their focus on her, scrutinising every little things she had done, did and would do. The girl who stole their name-Kuchiki Rukia. On first sight she was _almost_ likable: humble, modest and polite. A little timid and uncertain but made it up with her carefree attitude that_ irked_ them. How coarse, clumsy and undignified she was; an utter eyesore. Byakuya knew the elders were against her because of her lowly background and had arranged a wide manner of lessons. For her. Only her. It was like a déjà vu. Minus the marriage. Plus a sister.

Rukia was taught all she needed to know. About the history, the arts, the dance, the culture; the modus vivendi that stays true to the Kuchiki's reputation. She learned them well, committed them to her memory and executed them diligently. The elders remained guarded. She may look and behave like a Kuchiki but she wasn't one to begin with. They also noticed how Byakuya had been spending a little more time with his sister. How quaint. They could almost agree he would make a decent brother to her... Oh... but what blasphemy! he should be attending what they had arranged for him: meeting various ladies of reputable lineage, **not** out _there_ wasting time on _that_ girl. That Rukongai filth.

xx

Rukia's initially thought of her brother as one with little words, his hard stare easily unnerving her when they first spoke, and she had always felt less inclined to warm up to him with that aloof tone of his. However he surprised her on one night when he showed up in her room with a simple request she thought she had heard wrong: "talk to me." It had become a habit since then. On some days they would chat into the wee hours of the night about their days at work. Her brother was quite a talker, contrary to everyone's belief and her own. On one occasion he disclosed to her about her sister. Rukia hadn't expected that. But she was well intrigued by the sorrowful look on his face than of her past. Her brother rarely displayed emotions. He had been passionately recalling the moments he spent with Hisana, pouring through his feelings to her. It made her want to reach out and caress his face, to sooth those pain away but she restrained herself. She was here because he wanted her to listen. So Rukia listened, watched him glance occasionally at her as he spoke in an unusually quiet tone, his eyes soft with emotions. He went on to talk about the elders, his responsibilities, his duties, his pride, and for once Rukia pitied the man before her. He hadn't had anyone to share his trouble with. All these emotions locked deep beneath that stoic mask... Why had he chosen to tell her this?

"Rukia... Am I a disgrace? Do you... pity me?" Rukia remembered when he spoke those words to her, it was painstaking to meet his gaze and lie blatantly through her teeth. His voice had dropped to a self-pitying whisper. She remembered reaching out for his hand, fingers skimming across his own slender ones and felt him tense, an odd sensation prickling at her skin. It took everything in her control to avoid treading over what separates them. They were siblings but not quite. What she would do to comfort her friend Renji wouldn't work the same way with him. If a slight touch of her fingers could startle him, it could only mean he wasn't used to familial gestures... It made sense after all, she was his first and only foster-sister. But… she could be mistaken.

She was.

xx

Petite fingers traced masculine jaw line, her jaw forced in place as tongue stroked against hers. A low moan rose from her throat and his fingers were in her hair, yanking her head at an angle to deepen the kiss.

Rukia moaned again. She had never thought he could be this possessive still. But after all that had happened, there wasn't anything she doubt he couldn't do or be.

Still holding onto her wrists, Byakuya lifted his mouth from hers, and they panted for air. It was at this point she chose to break free, a playful and useless act definitely, he knew this all too well from their many previous encounters. He decided to play along letting her go.

A frenzied struggle soon took place over her futon. She laughed madly as he tried to hold her down; bodies melding as one as they fought for control, getting entangled in its downy covers that shield their naked bodies from each other. He wasted no time in prying them off as they twisted, turned and fumbled until finally he pinned her petite form beneath him with a triumphant growl. He looked at her, his eyes having a dark glint to them as he panted softly with her. Rukia managed a pout. She had never won once... How unfair.

xx

Byakuya groaned deeply when she dug her fingertips into the back of his skin, a guttural moan forced through her lips with each impact he delivered upon her frame. Her body arching helplessly against him as he pounded relentlessly into her. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, she could barely form words with her mind going blank. But her lips clung onto his name, incoherently moaning them aloud in her struggle to breathe and maintain her sanity.

He placed several kisses up her neck and jaw, savouring her cries when he increased his pace to push them both into climax. It didn't take long before his teeth clamped tightly over the nape of her neck as he growled in release, fingers fisting her hair as he held her head in place-wrenched painfully to the side-depriving her of his sight. Rukia closed her eyes, groaning in a mixture of frustration, pain and pleasure. She had offered him her throat, her neck but he had avoided placing any mark that is conspicuous. It always ended up like this. No wonder he had told her he preferred taking her from behind, it would be much easily, less painful for her and more enjoyable for them-but no, she refused. They had come this far now... Is there anything left to hide? Her cries probably would have been heard by others on many different occasions.

Byakuya soon removed himself; she eased back onto the futon while he gathered his robe and began dressing, lips parted in a ragged pant. Behind him Rukia watched him hazily beneath half lidded gaze as she breathed in slow and deep, limbs stretched out as she lay sprawled over her futon like a contented kitten. She waited until he finished dressing and grinned up at him, raising an index in a come-hither gesture. How quickly he had changed. And she wasn't referring to his dressing.

He let his eyes sweep her form, appreciating the way her body glisten with their sheen of sweat, before sauntering over to kneel by her side. In that instant her hands were in his hair, pulling him close. His mouth inched closer to hers. Rukia tilted her head slightly back and he leaned forward. She moved back, maintaining the distance between them, amused to witness the rigid coldness in his eyes wavering.

Rukia grinned, watched as he darted forward and froze with his eyes wide. He had kissed her fingers pressed wittily against her lips at the very last moment. "Nii-sama," she chided playfully with a giggle, the back of her hand pushing lightly at his disgruntled face. He grunted, refusing to budge.

"No kisses?" He questioned with his signature stare. At the tone he used, Rukia looked at him with a tiny smirk.

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you smirking at me, Rukia?"

"Not really..." Her smirk grew wider as she added, "nii-sama."

The annoyance in his eyes became visible. "Rukia," he warned thinly.

"Yes, Byakuya."

She leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, and he reciprocated within seconds. Rukia pulled away from the kiss shortly after, leaving a line of spit which he licked it off without looking away, carnal desire reflected in his eyes. Rukia swallowed silently, giving him a coy smile. She leaned in once more and tugged on his hair to get his mouth to her neck as he kissed her hungrily. Byakuya then realised what she was trying to do and stopped himself.

"Nii-sama..." She whined.

He frowned. "No."

Rukia folded her arms, pouted at him for a moment; her eyes taking in his passive stare before she turned and pulled the covers over her naked form. She lay on her side, away from him. What was he afraid of? They had done things beyond what they were supposed to do. They were long past the limit of siblinghood. Even the way she addressed him "nii-sama" was done solely out of mischief. Their relationship could change. She could change. So why couldn't they disclose... about them? She hated this secrecy. It made her feel so dirty.

Byakuya rose to his feet after she had chosen to disregard him and soon began strolling over to her door. Her voice then called out, "Nii-sama." He turned, noticing she was still facing away from him.

"Yes?"

"What if I'm pregnant?"

Rukia tried for indifference in her tone, but her words had come out amused, lofty.

"What did you say...?" The cold touch on her shoulder startled her, making her flinch. He was suddenly astride her form, his face peering intensely down at her, his tone getting harsher with an added tinge of bitterness, "you promised, Rukia."

"I was messing with you, nii-sama." She answered flatly, trying hard not to wince from his grip on her shoulder.

His eyes narrowed further, brows knitting together in a frown; Rukia wondered if he was having second thought. Would he refrain from seeking her again after this... ?

He regarded her quietly, regaining his apathy as he traced across her jaw with his fingers. "Rukia. Don't... _ever_ think you're in control of me. Threats will _never_ work. You would do well to remember what you promised, I wouldn't _even_ be touching you if not for that."

_Oh._

Rukia held his gaze steadily when he started kissing her jaw, his eyes a seductive grey. She could _drown_ in them. "Hai..." she whispered and tore her eyes from him. She felt his fingers rub the nape of her neck down her spine, causing her to shift uneasily beneath the blanket.

"Goodnight, Rukia." He placed a kiss on her ear and caressed her hair lightly. She said nothing simply listened to his footstep slowly fading off into the distance beyond her doors and when she was certain she was all alone, tears spill warmly down her cheeks.

She was nothing more than a mere substitute to him... And this, this was all a game to him. She understood now.

Hands covering her face, Rukia half sobbed and laughed into her palms. How naive. On what basis would he even desire her? Her resemblance to her sister? She choked back laughter. Why didn't she refuse back then... When his fingers brushed quietly against hers in response? Those eyes meeting hers revealing decades of unrequited love, of primal lust and desire hidden behind muted grey. Such a sorrowful expression.

Ah... Sympathy. She remembered why. Rukia fisted her hair in agitation of the memory, a demented smile creeping upon her features. It had been the weakness of the heart, her wants and desire overpowered her mind-the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Now look at what it had gotten them into. They had tasted the fruit of the forbidden. How sweet. Sinfully sweet. This abyss they had created... This guilty pleasure... This game... He had lured, seduced and ensnared her. In his perdition. Their shoddy little playground. With its equally sordid little secrets.

Certainly, with such a _fine_ devil like him... Two can play at that game.

* * *

Would the cliché title of "Devil's playground" be a better choice? Anyhow, this was supposed to be a one-shot... So it will probably take some time for the next chapter.

Reviews are appreciated. Any constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
